


slow zone

by thunderylee



Category: NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Stubborn Men, member love, mental health psa, smut with substance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-10-01 20:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: 5 times Shige tried to manage his stress.





	slow zone

**Author's Note:**

> i haven't managed to produce anything for two months and the other day at work this came out.

It started as a small tremble, right at the base of his skull. Nothing would even be happening, and Shige would feel this dull ache in the back of his head where it met his neck.

Anti-inflammatories helped for a while. Until they didn’t.

Now, it’s escalated to a full-on vibration, to where Shige visibly shudders each time it happens, furthering the pain, and it only took one Google search to terrify him into going to the doctor.

“You’re fine,” the doctor tells him, and the vibration seems to lift a bit. “It’s just stress.”

“Stress?” Shige repeats. He’s no stranger to stress. Spending twenty years as an entertainer with ten of those as a published author practically invites it. He always takes time for himself and makes it a point to relax every day. Hell, he usually doesn’t even leave the apartment if he doesn't have work!

“It’s not that simple anymore,” the doctor says after he tells her as much. “Your mind is trying to move at the same pace as when you were younger and it can’t keep up. You need to learn how to slow down and live in the moment.”

Shige stares at her like she’d just told him he needed to learn how to breathe underwater. “I’m a writer. My brain is wired to think about endless possibilities.”

“It’s not just your stories, right?” she asks knowingly, and he looks down. “Kato-san, I see a lot of people—perfectly healthy professionals—struggle with this exact thing. It can happen to anybody no matter how strong their body is. And as far as medical diagnoses go, it’s one of the better ones, right?”

She has a point there. Shige nods and sighs, resigning himself to making the effort to overcome this battle with his own brain. “What do I need to do?”

Later that night, after two meetings, one rehearsal, and dinner with Koyama where he purposely did not mention what was going on in his head, Shige digs out the pamphlets the doctor had given him and returns to Google. This search is much less scary, link after link of medical professionals and people just like him who are suffering from stress to the point of physical pain. He reads tip after tip and compiles a list of the ones that would work with his schedule.

Somehow, the thought of having even _more_ to do makes his head hurt just as badly.

  1. Exercise

It’s 32 degrees outside, but that just leads him to drink more water as he jogs around the block first thing in the morning. Despite running around on stages for two-thirds of his life, Shige is incredibly out of shape, stopping every few spurts to catch his breath and rehydrate. It only takes twenty minutes, but he’s drenched in sweat and so exhausted that he can barely function through his appointments. Writing is out of the question.

After two days, all he feels are shin splints. He can barely get out of bed in the morning, sore all day, and it probably defeats the purpose to drink more coffee to stay awake. Google-san suggests running at night instead, which is the last thing Shige wants to do after a full day of work.

“How do you run every day?” he asks Massu on a break, taking care to seek out advice without specifying why he wants it.

“I’ve been doing it for years,” Massu answers easily. “It’s second nature to me by now.”

Shige just nods and returns to his thoughts. Of course he wouldn’t be able to jump right into vigorous physical activity every day without building up to it. He adds another five minutes to warm up before heading outside and alternates sprinting with power-walking. It helps with the shin splints and fatigue, but the vibrations in his head don’t seem to subside any.

“You’re low tension lately,” Koyama tells him after a rehearsal, his tone more leader than best friend. Someone higher up must have noticed. “I know you have a lot going on right now, but please try to save your energy for NEWS.”

Guilt seems to aggravate the back of his head even more, but he just nods and mumbles that he’ll do his best. Maybe he’ll cut back to every other morning, or only on days he doesn’t have to dance. That type of inconsistency doesn’t seem like it bodes well for results though. Google-san agrees.

“You know, running isn’t the only form of exercise,” Massu tells him when they pack up to leave for the day. “There’s yoga, pilates, Zumba, kick-boxing, pretty much any way you could possibly move your body. If you don’t want to take a class, there are plenty of videos on YouTube for beginners.”

“Thanks,” Shige says evasively, though he’s already bookmarked several videos before he gets home.

The next few days are spent trying out different types of cardio, most of which seem to be aimed at women. It seems that men don’t get stressed as much as women do, or more likely they won’t admit it. Filing that bit of information away to include the next time he goes on a gender rant, he struggles to focus on the instructions and ends up bored with the repetitive motions and bubbly encouragement.

“You could join a sport,” Tegoshi supplies when he overhears Shige whining to Massu about hearing the same phrases over and over again. “It’s exercising with additional adrenaline from competition.”

“The last thing I want to do is work on a team with even more people,” Shige mutters. “You’re bad enough.”

“You have an excuse for everything, don’t you?” Tegoshi counters in his usual condescending voice. “I don’t know why you need to work out anyway. Your body is already nice.”

Shige starts at hearing that from the least likely person. “Thank you, but it’s not about that.”

“Shige, is your health okay?” Koyama jumps in, and now he’s using his worried friend tone. “You’re not forcing yourself to exercise because you _have_ to, right?”

“I’m _fine_,” he insists. “Just trying to stay active. We’re getting older, you know. It’s not good for me to be sentient so much.”

“There’s always sex,” Tegoshi says with a shrug. “Even doing it by yourself will raise your heart rate just like any other cardio.”

“Really?” Koyama asks skeptically, while Massu just turns and walks away.

Shige will never say it out loud, but Tegoshi may have been helpful after all. It doesn’t take that much time or energy to rub one out first thing in the morning, and come to think of it he did it all the time when he was younger and busier. It may not be the most orthodox of stress reduction techniques, but it sure feels the best.

It doesn’t seem to do much for the headaches though, so Shige decides it’s time to move on to the next item on his list.

  1. Mindfulness

Meditation apps are all the rage right now, but Shige has never been able to just sit and breathe with a clear mind. Ever since he can remember, he’s always been thinking about _something_, whether it’s a conversation from years ago or something that could happen in the future. Considering risk and consequences based on past experience is how he lives. He simply cannot turn it off.

But he tries. He sits on a cushion with his legs crossed and his hands turned up on his knees. He closes his eyes and counts his breaths. Four, eight, seven; inhale, hold, exhale. Inhale is one, exhale is two, count to ten and then start over. Somehow remembering to count stresses him out even more.

That’s not to say he hasn’t made progress. Now into his second month of head pains, he has become able to determine what exactly is triggering them. It’s not as random as he’d initially thought it was, mostly because his mind was racing so much that he couldn’t pinpoint what he was thinking when it happened. Now he can.

Societal expectations. Being rushed. Waiting around. Being out of control. The horrors of the world. He tried journalling every night before bed, emptying out his thoughts and worries and concerns in an attempt to sleep more peacefully, and even though he overwrites the documents instead of saving them, he has noticed these recurring themes. He only makes it a week before he gets sick of typing out the same thing over and over and stops, but it wasn’t all for naught.

Now that he knows what triggers the pain in the back of his head, he can utilize his newfound breathing methods to make it stop. It doesn’t do much to prevent it from happening in the first place, but being able to manage it is much better than riding it out without knowing why or how.

Something else the mindfulness community raves about is gratitude, and while it sounds silly on the surface, Shige actually likes the way it makes him feel to practice. Whether he’s doing a guided meditation on compassion or just jotting down five things he’s grateful for every day, it seems to put things into perspective and lift his spirits a little bit.

It’s much easier to write about positive things than the negative anyway. One of the meditations asks him to smile the whole time, and while he’s used to putting on a smiling face for work, it’s much different when he’s alone in his apartment. There’s something to be said about smiling without having a reason to, and he finds himself doing it more and more often without really thinking about it. The physical strain of his cheek muscles feels good.

“You’ve been happy lately,” Koyama comments while they’re waiting for a meeting to start. “Are you seeing somebody?”

Shige laughs out loud. “There are a million other reasons I could be happy besides that.”

“You’re evading the question,” Tegoshi points out, looking entirely too interested for someone who doesn’t even have both eyes open yet, clinging to his Starbucks like it’s his life blood.

“Yeah, I’m seeing someone,” Shige says sarcastically. “Her name is Nunya Business.”

Tegoshi snorts while it takes Koyama a second to figure out that that’s not a real person.

“As long as you’re happy,” Koyama says gently, and Shige feels mildly guilty for misleading him.

At this point, it’s honestly easier for him to let them think what they want, because they leave him alone for the most part and seem to expect him to look at his phone all the time. Little do they know it’s his self care app reminding him to breathe deeply and drink water several times throughout the day. It may be dishonest, but it’s not the kind of lie that will hurt anyone.

One of the introspective meditations has Shige realizing _why_ he’s so reluctant to share his struggles with anyone. He grew up during a time when things like mental health weren’t discussed as freely as they are now. Anyone who had problems with their mind were considered “crazy” and locked up in the “looney bin.” Obviously, things are different now, but it’s still not as widely accepted, especially in Japan.

“Mom,” Shige says into the phone, more nervous than when he thought he might have a brain tumor. “I’m really stressed lately. I feel it throbbing in the back of my head. I’ve tried all of these techniques like exercising and being mindful and while that’s helped a little, the pain is still there. What should I do?”

“Oh, Shigeaki,” Kato-mama fawns on the other end, and even the digital distortion can’t dilute the warmth Shige feels just from hearing her voice. “You have always moved so fast, and now it’s caught up with you. You have to slow down, baby. I tell your father this all the time.”

“You do?” Shige asks. “Dad feels this too? What does he do?”

“You’re both such stubborn _men_,” she goes on, and Shige can’t find it within himself to be offended because she’s _right_. “There’s not one solution that you can apply and fix it like a band-aid. Everyone gets stressed, but not everyone bottles it up until it literally blows out the back of their head.”

Shige frowns at the mental image. “So, what does Dad do?” he asks again.

“He doesn’t manage it well,” Kato-mama says slowly. “He withdraws, he drinks, he gets angry. Don’t do any of those things.”

“Drinking makes it hurt even worse,” Shige confesses. “It’s the worst kind of hangover.”

“_Slow down_,” Kato-mama repeats. “Not everything has to happen right away. Try and schedule your appointments with longer intervals between. Your manager should work with you if you explain to her that it’s for your health. Get up earlier than you need to and go to bed earlier than you have to. I know that doesn’t always work for your schedule, but even if it’s once a week it’s better than nothing.”

Shige nods even though she can’t see it. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You have people you can talk to, right?” she asks. “Friends, colleagues, Koyama-kun?”

“I haven’t told them yet,” Shige says. “I don’t want them to worry. And I’m a little ashamed.”

“If it’s Koyama-kun, he’s going to worry no matter what,” Kato-mama says, and she’s not wrong. “Would you want him to keep something like this from you?”

Shige frowns, his heart breaking at the thought of any of the other NEWS members going through something like this on their own, particularly Koyama. “I suppose not.”

“Tell them. Part of being a team is helping each other through struggles and being there for support. This is literally Koyama-kun’s job as a leader.”

“You’re right,” Shige says. “I’ll tell him soon. I promise.”

The throbbing in his head has never been so painful until he learned that he had to share its existence with the other three people who rely on him to have it together the most.

  1. Social support

He doesn’t tell them right away. He doesn’t even really tell his manager, who just accepts his request to space out his appointments if possible without any further explanation. He takes his mother’s advice to wake up early and go to bed early as much as he can, though all that does is enable him to lie around in bed longer.

Slowing down is boring.

He can’t deny that it’s helping a little, just like the other avenues had. He feels calmer, the vibrations have subdued to small tremors, and he starts to think that he may have actually beat this all on his own after all. Pride may be a sin, but damn does it feel good.

His self care app tells him to hug someone, as the physical contact releases some kind of “cuddle hormone” that helps to reduce stress and improve overall mood, and if there’s not a person readily available, then hug an animal. Shige has ignored these notifications so far, having no one and no pet to hug, but then an opportunity presents itself in the form of Tegoshi bringing Emma to work.

She’s well behaved enough not to jump on his lap uninvited, though she makes it obvious that she wants to. Shige pats his knees and she’s on him, wagging her tail happily and sniffing him all over. She’s moving too much for him to hug her properly, but petting her is good enough for now, even if Tegoshi’s giving him a hefty side eye at the end of the day when Shige reluctantly returns the puppy to her owner.

“You know, you can come by anytime and play with her,” Tegoshi hisses conspiratorially, like Emma’s not the one he’s referring to.

“Maybe I will,” Shige says airily. “When’s a good time?”

Tegoshi shrugs. “Whenever I’m home, I guess. If I don’t have to entertain you, it doesn’t matter to me if you’re there.”

True to his word, Tegoshi’s curled up in his expensive recliner with his gaming headset on when Shige shows up later that week. All Shige gets is a wave before he returns to the game, something with a lot of flashes and spinning that has Shige turning away before he gets nauseous.

Emma’s already bouncing around his feet, and Shige just plops to the floor and lets her crawl all over him, as much of a hug as he’s going to get from the wriggly pup. Tegoshi’s grunts and occasional outbursts of swear words fade into the background as Shige focuses fully on Emma and her soft fur, noticing how happy he is to have her lavish him with affection.

Several times he’s thought about getting his own dog, but he’s got enough to do without taking care of a living being too. He had a dog growing up, whom he would go home to visit even after he moved out until she ultimately passed a good number of years ago. His parents aren’t interested in getting another dog now that they’re older, and Shige’s lost touch with anyone whose paths don’t cross his anymore. He’ll meet with his old friends every now and then for drinks and catching up, but he doesn’t visit them at their homes and hug their dogs.

Emma seems to know that his mind is wandering because she keeps demanding his attention, and Shige figures this is one of those situations where he should slow down and enjoy the present moment. He concentrates on Emma as much as he can, her warm body and rough tongue covering his face in kisses, a floral scent mixed in with the natural smell of dog. Tegoshi must have bathed her fairly recently.

“Do you want to take her for a walk?”

The soft voice surprises Shige so much that he jerks, disrupting Emma in the process. Tegoshi’s peering over the edge of his couch, only his eyes and pineapple bangs visible. It’s equal parts adorable and creepy.

“Okay,” Shige agrees.

Tegoshi disappears from Shige’s vision, and the next thing Shige knows is Emma’s paws digging into his stomach when she hears Tegoshi shaking the leash. It takes Shige a second to get to his feet, a little dizzy from lying on the floor for so long, and Tegoshi stares at him for a second too long before hooking the leash onto Emma’s collar and offering him the handle.

Shige doesn’t expect Tegoshi to join them, but the pair of them walk around his neighborhood while Emma tests Shige’s arm strength. For such a small dog she sure has a lot of force in her. Shige takes the opportunity to look around, having not been to this part of Tokyo before, at least not beyond riding through without paying attention to the surroundings.

“What’s going on with you, Shige?” Tegoshi asks suddenly, apropos of nothing. Shige supposes it had been wishful thinking to hope that they wouldn’t talk at all during this visit.

“Nothing’s going on with—”

“Don’t bullshit me,” Tegoshi cuts him off, his voice sharp for one of the few times in Shige’s memory. “I know what it looks like to cling to a pet for comfort. Emma is here for a reason, you know.”

Shige says nothing. He does know. He was there when Tegoshi registered her as his emotional support animal.

“I get it,” Tegoshi says after a few excruciating moments of silence. “It took me _months_ to gather up the courage to come to you when I was having a hard time a couple years ago. It’s scary to swallow your pride and ask for help. But Shige, I’m so glad I did.”

“Yeah?” Shige asks. More than just the back of his head is trembling right now.

“Yeah.” Tegoshi steps to the side and bumps Shige’s arm. “We may not be best friends, but we’re in this together. The four of us are forever, right? We decided that a long time ago. So, I’m here if you need to talk. Or if you don’t want to talk. As cute as Emma is, it’s much better to hug a person who can hug you back. Trust me.”

Shige feels like he wants to cry. Maybe he should; maybe he’ll feel better if he lets it out. He’s not sad or upset, and he’s not moved to tears by Tegoshi’s kind words or generous offer that will undoubtedly benefit Tegoshi as well as Shige. He just has all of this _tension_ coiled up inside of him, ready to burst, and apparently it wants to burst out of his eyes.

“I don’t want to talk,” Shige says finally, tightening his grip on Emma’s leash for some kind of release. “Not yet.”

“Okay,” Tegoshi replies easily, and part of Shige is grateful that this is Tegoshi and not Koyama. There’s no way Koyama would have let him off the hook without _some_ kind of explanation. “Then we won’t talk.”

Surprisingly, Tegoshi doesn’t say one more thing on the remainder of their walk, and by the time they get back to Tegoshi’s apartment, Shige’s much more relaxed. He hands Tegoshi Emma’s leash and retreats to the bathroom to clean himself up, his face a little puffy from trying so hard not to let his emotions get the best of him.

When he returns to the living room, Tegoshi had moved over to the couch and turned off his game. “I’m not gonna hug you without your consent,” he says firmly. “But if you want me to, I will.”

Shige sighs as he plops on the couch next to Tegoshi, close enough that their thighs touch. “Hug me, please.”

He’s pretty sure that he and Tegoshi have embraced at least once during the course of their careers, for real and not for fan service, but Shige doesn’t remember it being this tight. Tegoshi wraps both arms around him and squeezes with what feels like all of his strength, like he can remove whatever’s bothering Shige with force alone, like this isn’t just for Shige. Shige melts into it, looping his arms around Tegoshi’s thin waist to reciprocate the best he can, clinging like Tegoshi is the only thing keeping him grounded right now. Maybe he is.

“I’m trying,” he gets out, pressing the words into Tegoshi’s shoulder. “I’m trying, but it’s hard.”

“I know,” Tegoshi replies gently, and he would. “But you don’t have to do it alone. Whatever it is, we’re here for you. We’re on your side. You don’t have to talk about it, but I need you to understand that.”

“I do,” Shige says. “Thank you.”

Tegoshi shakes his head. “I owe you one. Or seven.”

Shige laughs. It heightens the warmth and comfort he already feels from the hug. “Just a little while longer, then I’ll go home.”

“You don’t have to,” Tegoshi says, and Shige falls limp at the implication. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna take advantage of your vulnerability. I prefer _those_ kind of bed companions enthusiastic at the very least.”

“At least you have _some_ morals,” Shige quips, and Tegoshi half-heartedly punches him in the arm. “_Ow_.”

Tegoshi hugs him even tighter in response, and Shige feels so surrounded by comfort and the best kind of platonic love that right now it feels like nothing can hurt him. He doesn’t feel anything anywhere in his head, and even his mind has quieted down for the time being. It’s much easier to focus on the present moment when he feels so good, feeling Tegoshi’s muscles under his hands and breathing in the lingering scent of Tegoshi’s shampoo mixed with the sweat that had formed from their walk.

“Okay, I’ll sleep over,” Shige agrees, and Tegoshi lets out a little ‘yay’. “But you’re wearing clothes to bed.”

“You’re no fun,” Tegoshi teases as he pulls back enough to offer an epic pout. “I’ll wear boxers.”

“Deal.”

It’s so hot that Shige ends up just as undressed, though that doesn’t deter the pair of them from holding onto each other as they fall asleep, Shige’s mind peacefully calm. For now.

  1. Therapy

They say that people who are book smart don’t have much common sense, and while Shige would argue with that assessment until he’s blue in the face, he can’t deny that he doesn’t make great decisions sometime. One of these decisions was rehearsing while his head was pounding.

It seemed silly to bow out because of a _headache_. He didn’t have a fever or anything. Google-san had taught him that the back of his head is where his brain manages things like balance and muscle movements, so in hindsight it made sense that he would trip over literally nothing and knock over a stack of audio equipment on his way down.

At least it wasn’t on stage. But it could have been.

He’s on his back when he comes to, low timbres of heated voices reaching his ears before he processes what they’re saying. He doesn’t open his eyes right away, dreading the inevitable lecture about letting them down. That is the last thing he wanted to do, the whole reason he hasn’t told any of them what’s going on with him lately, and he ended up doing it anyway.

“I think he’s awake,” Koyama says in a more audible voice, followed by footsteps approaching Shige. “Don’t move, Shige, okay? The paramedics are on their way.”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Shige grumbles, ignoring the stab in his head when he tries to sit up. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Koyama argues in such an un-Koyama-like way that Shige forces open one eye to make sure it’s really him talking. It is, and he’s sporting such a distraught face that Shige thinks something really bad just happened to him. “I know about the stress.”

Someone gasps, probably Tegoshi, but Shige just cowers under the bright lights of the rehearsal room. “You do?”

“Your mother called me,” Koyama says, his voice turning more gentle, and it makes Shige’s head feel a little better. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to come to me on your own, and I’m not gonna lie, Shige, it hurts that you didn’t think you could confide in me for whatever reason.”

“Maybe don’t get into that right now?” Tegoshi suggests, kneeling next to Koyama and squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s focus on Shige’s health first.”

“I’m _fine_,” Shige reiterates, though he second-guesses himself at the pain that shoots up his arm when he tries to move it. “Shit, did I break my arm?”

“You landed on it pretty hard,” Tegoshi answers, stretching out to lie on the floor alongside Shige. It’s a nice gesture considering the floor is probably filthy from their shoes. “That’s why we don’t want you to try to move until the paramedics get here to check you out.”

“Okay,” Shige inevitably agrees, because fighting is exhausting, with them and with himself. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I’m sorry too,” Tegoshi adds sheepishly, and now he’s the one flinching under Koyama’s stare. “I knew something was wrong and didn’t say anything.”

Koyama spins back to Shige. “You went to _Tegoshi_?”

“_Later_,” Tegoshi hisses.

“_Fine_,” Koyama grumbles, curling up on Shige’s other side and carefully covering Shige’s good hand with his. “I’m not mad at you. I’m just disappointed. I could have helped you. I know all about stress. I am hosting a show about health!”

“In here,” Massu’s voice sounds from the hallway, where he’s directing two people with a gurney into the room. He shows up in Shige’s vision before the others. “Oh good, he’s awake.”

He looks relieved, and all at once Shige realizes how much of a scare he must have given them, collapsing to the ground for seemingly no reason. Thankfully, he doesn’t have much time to feel guilty before the paramedics start distracting him with questions and requests to move different parts of his body.

Everything seems to work as it should, though they still want to take Shige to the hospital to run further tests on him. At this point, Shige just agrees and lets them do what they think is best. Koyama rides in the ambulance with him, never letting go of his hand and chattering at him about any and everything that comes to mind in an effort to keep him awake. He could have a concussion.

He doesn’t, but he does have a sprained shoulder and generalized anxiety. Both are treatable, though one of them keeps him from dancing for six weeks while the other has him feeling like the biggest failure of a human being on the planet. Whatever the nurse runs into his IV along with the sugar water seems to make _all_ of his feeling go away, leaving him more and more numb until his brain too falls under and he’s relieved from dealing with reality for a little while longer.

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is the pressure still on his hand, the smile already forming on his face before he opens his eyes. “Koyama.”

“I love you, you self-righteous idiot,” Koyama says firmly, looking like he wants to beat the shit out of Shige and hug him breathless at the same time. “I may not always understand why you think the way you do, but I am always here to help you battle whatever demons only you can see. _Know_ that.”

“I do,” Shige replies automatically, and this medicine must have completely turned off the part of Shige’s brain that holds back his feelings because he goes from zero to choked up faster than Tegoshi during a concert encore. “I’m so sorry.”

Koyama does hug him then, though it’s a little awkward with one of Shige’s arms in a sling and the other stuck with an IV. After a lot of maneuvering around, including one near-miss of Koyama’s knee in Shige’s crotch, Koyama presumably gives up and just flops on top of him, stretching his long legs out alongside Shige’s and burrowing his head on Shige’s good shoulder.

“For such a scrawny guy, you sure are heavy,” Shige forces out through what little windpipe he has.

“It’s my big heart,” Koyama says seriously, and Shige shakes them both with his laughter.

“Something you two want to tell me?” Massu comments when he arrives a few minutes later.

“In my defense, I’m drugged,” Shige replies, and there’s even a slur in his voice that he did not intend. “I don’t know what his excuse is.”

“Have you been crying?” Massu asks, stepping forward to peer curiously at Shige’s face.

“Also the drugs,” Shige answers.

Massu frowns. “I thought you were the kind of man who isn’t afraid to show his true feelings even if it makes him look weak.”

This is where the back of Shige’s head would have definitely started trembling, but all he feels is painless bliss. “Instead, I ended up looking even weaker by hiding it and ending up here.”

“Yeah, you did that,” Massu says, but his face is sympathetic. “Do you need anything from me? Looks like Koyama has everything covered. Literally.”

“Where’s Tegoshi?” Shige wonders out loud.

“He doesn’t like hospitals,” Koyama and Massu reply together, and Shige “ah’s” knowingly. Had he been in his right mind, he would have already known that. “He said we are to bring you straight to his place once you’re released, however,” Koyama adds. “Is there something _you_ want to tell _us_?

“Yes,” Shige says seriously. “I’m having an affair with his dog.”

It’s not as funny out loud as it was in his head, but Koyama laughs anyway. Massu just rolls his eyes and takes that as his cue to leave, calling over his shoulder to message him if they need anything. Shige’s suddenly tired, the effort to laugh and smile draining him of what little energy he had, and he doesn’t think twice before nuzzling his head against Koyama’s as he drifts off.

Everything hurts when he wakes, enough for Koyama to carefully lift himself up and sit in the uncomfortable plastic chair instead. Despite the pain, he’s released with two prescriptions and strict instructions to keep his injured shoulder in a sling, and Koyama drives him to Tegoshi’s as requested after a brief stop at the pharmacy.

“Wait,” Koyama says as Shige tries to figure out how to unfasten his seat belt with one hand. “I’ll help you out, but first I want you to listen to me. I think you should talk to someone. A professional. My therapist is great if you don’t think that’s too weird. She already knows about the industry and our jobs, so you won’t have to waste any time talking about that.”

“You see a therapist?” Shige asks incredulously. He’d had no idea.

“Since I moved out on my own, yeah,” Koyama replies, giving Shige a smile that’s both comforting and sheepish. “I didn’t adjust very well to living by myself, which is why I stayed at home so long to begin with. But I’m glad I had someone to talk to, someone whose job it was to keep me on track to living my best life, because I wouldn’t have handled everything that’s happened since then nearly as well. Especially last year.”

Shige nods as he remembers their unfortunate scandal. “I just don’t like the idea of talking to a stranger about my private feelings.”

“Shige, you talk to strangers about your feelings all the time,” Koyama points out. “Your writing and your radio show are nothing but your honest thoughts about anything and everything. What makes this different? Is it because it feels shameful? Maybe that’s exactly why you need to go.”

“I’ll think about it,” Shige says. “Can we go in now? Everything hurts and I just want to lie down.”

“I hope you’re ready for the world’s worst home nurse,” Koyama says as he leans over to unfasten Shige’s seat belt. “I’m tempted to stay with you to make sure he doesn’t mix up your meds with his diet pills or something.”

“I’m not here to be taken care of,” Shige tells him. “I’m here because we find comfort with each other.”

Koyama stares at him for a few seconds, then breaks out into a grin. “That’s so cute.”

Shige sighs. “It’s not like that!”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Shige.”

Ten minutes later, when Tegoshi’s limbs are wrapped around him like an octopus and he only feels the dull ache in his shoulder, he gives up telling himself anything. He doesn’t listen anyway.

  1. Laugh

The vibrations in the back of his head don’t completely go away. They’re still there, intensified when something happens to spike his anxiety, but manageable. Between therapy, numerous coping mechanisms, and some vitamin supplements, Shige’s made peace with his different wiring, openly discussing it in his next _Tripper_ essay and fielding questions on the following _SoraShige no Book_ from a large number of fans who have felt or currently feel the same way.

He still had an MRI to rule out anything life-threatening. The only thing the doctor found was that his brain was a little bigger than normal, which Shige took as a compliment.

His schedule is still tightly packed with various activities, but most of them are part of his self-care routine. Guided meditation, work out with Massu, play date with Emma (and Tegoshi by proxy), movie night with Koyama, even dinner with his parents every other week or so. Since the people in his life are so important that Shige was willing to risk his health so that they wouldn’t think less of him, part of his therapy is to regularly spend time with them so that he can come to trust them more and be honest about what he’s feeling, positive _and_ negative.

Shige thinks that Koyama had something to do with that, but their therapist won’t admit it.

Shige has also incorporated more comedy into his life. Stand up, variety shows, anything that makes him laugh. Laughing is the easiest way to come down from the stress, even if it’s forced. He felt silly the first couple times he made himself laugh when he started feeling bad, but it served the purpose. He seeks out books and movies with humor elements and even finds some YouTubers who make him laugh so hard that his sides hurt.

Even with Tegoshi, they’ll joke around and poke fun at whatever they can find to keep the atmosphere light and fun. Shige knows exactly what they’re doing together, and Tegoshi probably does too, but it doesn’t stop either of them from having a good time and enjoying each other the way they both want. Shige is too old for labels.

“Hey,” he says one night when they’re curled up in Tegoshi’s recliner, Emma stretched across both of their laps kicking in her sleep. “I read the other day that kissing is a great deterrent for stress.”

Tegoshi’s laugh shakes Shige’s entire body. “Shige, if you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask.”

“This is my way of asking.”

Instead of speaking, Tegoshi slides his hand up Shige’s jaw and guides him around to capture his lips. Instantly, Shige knows this is more about actually kissing Tegoshi than whatever health benefits he may get from it, but he doesn’t see why the two have to be mutually exclusive. He turns to fully face Tegoshi, upsetting Emma’s slumber in the process, but the tiny poodle seems to support their actions by jumping down and seeking out another napping spot.

They kiss slowly at first, taking the time to press their lips together over and over before Tegoshi flicks out his tongue. Shige responds wholeheartedly, crushing their mouths together as he slides his own tongue alongside Tegoshi’s, pulling a faint moan from deep in Tegoshi’s throat that has Shige embracing him with both arms.

He doesn’t know how long they sit like that, devouring each other long after Shige’s mind has blissfully shut down, and when they finally break apart, both gasping for air, Shige can’t bring himself to pull too far away.

“Do I have to wear clothes to bed tonight?” Tegoshi asks in this husky whisper, his breath tickling Shige’s chin.

“No,” Shige decides at that moment, and it’s a good thing that Emma had already relocated because Tegoshi straddles his lap and kisses him _hard_.

They don’t make it to bed, but Shige had known that they wouldn’t. Truth be told, he’s been thinking about doing this for a long time, not quite gathering up the nerve to proposition the man who’s been so uncharacteristically attentive to him through this whole ordeal. Tegoshi’s not going to read too much into it just like Shige won’t, but it still felt like this line that they shouldn’t cross, at least not while Shige’s still working out his own issues.

“I can _feel_ you stressing out,” Tegoshi breaks through his internal monologue, and Shige opens his eyes to find Tegoshi giving him a knowing look, albeit his face is pink. “Yes, we probably shouldn’t do this, but we both want to and it’s about feeling good first and foremost, right?”

”Please tell me you keep condoms and lube somewhere close to here,” Shige says seriously.

Tegoshi holds their eye contact as he pops open one of the arms of the recliner, exposing a hidden console. “If I go inside you, are you gonna fall in love with me?”

“Probably not,” Shige answers honestly.

“It’s okay if you do,” Tegoshi tells him, taking the opportunity to look away while he sets out the necessities on the end table. “Even if it’s just for the moment, I’ll gladly accept your affection.”

“You say that like it’s so easy for you to shift gears,” Shige thinks out loud as Tegoshi lifts his shirt over his arms.

When he can see again, Tegoshi is shrugging. “Maybe it is. Those kinds of feelings are fleeting for me. Always have been. Casual encounters like this are the closest I can get to having anything meaningful with another person, because as you can imagine, people don’t really like inconsistency when it comes to love.”

Shige returns the favor on Tegoshi’s shirt, his hands lingering on the newly exposed skin. “We should absolutely talk about this, but not right now.”

“Agreed.”

Tegoshi kisses him again, two pairs of hands running over backs and chests until they get impatient and drop to each other’s waists. They manage to get each other out of their pants without anyone getting kicked and Shige moans out of their kiss when Tegoshi goes right between his legs, stroking him to full mast before his next breath.

“Mm, Shige’s so hard for me,” Tegoshi purrs, pressing the words into Shige’s lips that can’t actually stay closed. “I might want this in me instead.”

“Either way is fine,” Shige gets out. “Just pick one and let’s get there already.”

“Impatient.” Tegoshi drags his lips down Shige’s jaw to his ear, where the most pleasant shudder surges up Shige’s spine at the first contact of breath. “I’m already on top of you, so I’m gonna have to make a lot of effort to ride you if we do it that way.”

“You would have to make effort either way,” Shige points out, choking on his own air as Tegoshi twists his wrist and Shige’s hips snap up on their own. “That’s what you get for being on top.”

Tegoshi pulls back and narrows his eyes, but he’s grinning. “All right then. If I have to put in work, so do you. Get me ready for you.”

“Gladly,” Shige answers, already lathering his fingers with lube now that the order has been decided. It’s difficult to keep his eyes open with Tegoshi’s hand on his cock, but he manages to watch Tegoshi’s face as he slips his own hand between Tegoshi’s legs, feeling around for the little hole that pulls him in and pushes him out at the same time.

When he finds it, Tegoshi gasps beautifully, hips rolling a little as his body gets used to Shige’s touch. Shige feels him open up, helped along by stretching fingers and some prodding to that spot that has Tegoshi crying out loud and pushing back for more. He’s positively gorgeous to watch like this, so raw and unapologetic about how good Shige’s making him feel, and it has Shige even more ready to unite them this way and feel that wild abandon for himself.

“Shige, I want you,” Tegoshi says clearly. “Put on a condom so I can have you.”

He visibly trembles when Shige pulls out his fingers, barely able to tear his eyes away from Tegoshi’s flushed face to tear open the condom packet and roll it on his length. The instant he’s sheathed, Tegoshi’s grabbing him and guiding him inside, only a little resistance from Shige’s careful stretching.

What sounds like one long, continuous moan coming from Tegoshi is joined by Shige’s own noises, much lower and broken up with gasping breaths as Tegoshi settles in and starts to ride. Shige struggles to focus on the man above him, because Tegoshi in the heat of passion is really a sight to watch, but he’s overcome by his own pleasure and reaches out to wrap his arms around Tegoshi’s waist instead.

“_Fuck_, it’s good,” Tegoshi says, and Shige feels it in the desperate way Tegoshi moves on top of him. “Thrust up into me too, Shige, come on. I wanna feel you deep.”

Shige’s hips move on their own, shaking the recliner a little as he meets Tegoshi’s erratic rhythm. The added stimulation pulls a low groan from Shige’s throat, hands gripping Tegoshi’s hips as Shige plunges into him over and over. It already feels so good and Tegoshi’s appreciative noises take him even higher, the pair of them moving together so intimately as the pressure inside Shige starts to build in a much more favorable way.

He snakes his hand around to squeeze Tegoshi’s cock, thumbing the bead of precome at the tip while Tegoshi breathes out soft “oh yeahs” and rocks back and forth more sharply. If Tegoshi riding Shige’s dick was worth making the effort to watch, it’s nothing compared to Tegoshi being brought to orgasm _while_ riding Shige’s dick. Shige feels it before he sees it, but that just means his eyes are open and focused in time for Tegoshi to throw his head back and shudder on top of him, muscles tightening around Shige as he spends himself on Shige’s belly.

“Mm,” Tegoshi hums in a way that has Shige breaking out into a fresh layer of sweat. “That felt good. Your turn.”

He gets back to work, riding harder than before, and Shige can’t stop Tegoshi’s given name from forming in his lungs as he comes. Tegoshi makes another one of those obscene noises as Shige falls still, continuing to rock his body to milk the orgasm out of Shige until it’s too much. They both hiss as Tegoshi lifts up enough for Shige to pull out, and Shige’s hands go right for Tegoshi’s trembling thighs in an unspoken reward for working so hard.

“Oh, that was good,” Tegoshi says, collapsing on top of Shige as they both catch their breaths. “We needed that.”

“Yeah, we did,” Shige agrees, managing to inhale deeply with the entirety of Tegoshi’s body weight on top of him. This one isn’t nearly as heavy as Koyama. “I don’t have an iota of stress in my body right now.”

“Should have come to me first,” Tegoshi wheezes out. “Could have avoided all of that serious stuff.”

Shige’s still rolling his eyes when Tegoshi hoists himself all the way up and walks a bit unsteadily down the hall. “This is just a temporary reprieve. You didn’t fuck the anxiety out of me, you know.”

“Give me time,” Tegoshi calls out over his shoulder, and Shige can’t stop laughing.


End file.
